


oh, the loss of precious innocence (paying for your ignorance)

by Nerd_of_Camelot



Category: DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Bruce Wayne's A+ Parenting, Damian Wayne Has Issues, Dick Grayson Has Issues, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson as Slade Wilson's Apprentice, Dick Grayson is Not Nightwing, Dick Grayson-centric, Established Dick Grayson/Red X, Established Relationship, Everyone Has Issues, Family Reunions, First Meetings, Gen, Hurt Dick Grayson, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd is a Batfamily Member, M/M, Morally Grey Dick Grayson, No Teen Titans, Not Canon Compliant, Resurrected Jason Todd, Sexual Content, Slade Wilson is Not That Bad, Slade Wilson's A+ Parenting, Sort Of, Tim Drake Has Issues, but it does get better, learning how to person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:20:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24759229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerd_of_Camelot/pseuds/Nerd_of_Camelot
Summary: Fourteen, injured, and angry, Dick Grayson had stormed out of Wayne Manor―to run away or simply to take a long walk, he wasn't sure.It was the middle of the night, and while the sunrise was coming fast there was still plenty of time for the usual night crowd to catch him off guard. Do away with the idiot child wandering the streets.Do away with the ward of Bruce Wayne.That's what everyone thought happened, he guessed, when he never came back.He almost envied them for their ability to roll with that story and leave well enough alone.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Red X, Dick Grayson/Red X, Red X & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Alfred Pennyworth & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Damian Wayne
Comments: 9
Kudos: 116





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what can i say? edgy aus featuring/focusing on Dick are my Brand™

He still remembered it with a clarity his mind didn’t spare for most of his memories.

_ His shoulder still felt like nothing he’d ever felt before―a pain he didn’t even have the words to describe. It’d felt worse earlier, but now he was either used to it or the pain medication that Alfred had given him was kicking in. He wasn’t sure which, nor did he particularly care. _

_ He just knew that he was  _ **_livid_ ** _ right now. _

_ “What do you  _ **_mean_ ** _ I can’t patrol after I’ve healed?” He snapped back at Bruce, who didn’t so much as blink, “This isn’t anything permanent!” _

_ “It’s too dangerous.” Bruce replied, cold and emotionless, as Dick had sort of come to expect on the occasions they got in fights, “I won’t allow you to put yourself in danger like this again.” _

_ Part of Dick understood―part of him said, well, that makes sense. He’s worried. He doesn’t want me to get hurt again. I’ve never been shot before, so of course this would be the occasion that actually gets him to care. I’ve always been so careful. _

_ … The rest of him, the  _ **_majority_ ** _ of him, didn’t feel particularly understanding or cared about. _

_ “Oh  _ **_fuck you!”_ ** _ He spat, bristling, “Too dangerous? I’ve been doing this since I was  _ **_ten!_ ** _ I’m not helpless, Bruce, you  _ **_know_ ** _ that!” _

_ “And I also know I should have never let you start in the first place. That’s my fault.” _

_ That Bruce didn’t chide him for his language wasn’t even a relief. It just made him bristle more, because there was an implication that Bruce was trying to let him be angry. That he was making some sort of attempt to let him air it out without it turning into even more of a fight. _

_ Oh, who was Dick kidding? _

_ Bruce was letting him curse so that it wouldn’t have to be a fight for Bruce at  _ **_all._ ** _ If he just ignored him saying ‘fuck’, just let it slide, then there was nothing he had to fight about. Everything else would just work. Would just  _ **_happen._ ** _ Because Dick screaming at him wasn’t a fight and he didn’t have to respond to it. _

_ Because Dick was fourteen and Bruce was the authority here. _

_ Dick didn’t get a say. _

_ “Fuck you.” Dick repeated, seething and  _ **_knowing_ ** _ that not even physically lashing out would change Bruce’s mind on this. Even just waiting around for him to change his mind wouldn’t do anything. He’d obviously made the decision  _ **_for_ ** _ Dick instead of even considering Dick’s side of things.  _ **_“Fuck_ ** _ you.” _

_ He turned on his heel, angry tears starting to spring into his eyes, and stalked off down the hallway. _

_ “Where are you going?” Bruce called after him. _

_ “Anywhere fucking else!” Dick threw back at him. “Just leave me alone.” _

_ “Fine,” Bruce agreed, too easily. Not letting it become a fight. “Stay in the manor.” _

_ Dick flipped him off and all but ran up the stairs to his room. _

_ Dick didn’t get a say in this. He knew he didn’t. _

_ “And in case I didn’t make myself clear, you are  _ **_forbidden_ ** _ from patrolling in Gotham.” Bruce’s voice carried up the stairs after him. _

_ Dick slammed his door in response. _

_ Yanked his shirt over his head and hissed when it jostled his shoulder too hard. Pulled a tanktop on instead, pulled a hoodie over it and just gritted his teeth through it. Changed out his tennis shoes for a pair of boots. Shoved his currently useless hand into his hoodie pocket and pretty much vaulted out his window. _

_ His roll was unsteady but at least he avoided rolling on his bad shoulder when he hit the ground. _

_ Climbing over the garden wall with one hand was pretty much hellish, but he managed, and then he was off into the night again for the second time since nine pm. _

_ He didn’t know if he was running away from the manor for good or if he was just planning to go for a very long walk. He didn’t care. He was just… _

_ So livid. _

_ Bruce hadn’t even spent a  _ **_second_ ** _ considering his side of things. Hadn’t even asked. _

_ Dick wondered if the guy was ever going to learn that telling Dick he wasn’t allowed to patrol wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Telling him not to go after Tony Zucco hadn’t worked when he was ten, and telling him that even after his shoulder healed he wasn’t allowed to patrol wasn’t going to work now. His mom had always said he was spirited―maybe too spirited for his own good. But what did it matter? _

_ Bruce had brought him into the world of being a vigilante, taught him how to fight. _

_ Just…  _ **_Disallowing_ ** _ him from doing what was by all accounts pretty much the only thing he was good at was a good way to make Dick want to strangle him. _

_ He hated knowing he felt that way, but he also hated knowing he respected Bruce too much to kill anyone,  _ **_least of all_ ** _ Bruce himself. _

_ … He would have at least liked a chance to plead his case, but Bruce would never give that to him. Any argument wouldn’t be taken seriously. It’d be taken as a child complaining about something that was ‘best for them’. But, really, he just… _

_ If he wasn’t allowed to patrol after he healed, what reason did he have to heal? _

_ He had  _ **_nothing else_ ** _ he was good at. He had no other useful skills. He was way too hyperactive to sit back in the Cave and offer advice and watch cameras, should Bruce even  _ **_offer_ ** _ that option.  _

_ If he couldn’t patrol, he was useless. _

_ And being useless scared the shit out of him. _

_ If he wasn’t useful anymore, what reason did Bruce have for keeping him around? _

_ … No, bad thought, but… _

_ He didn’t know. _

_ He guessed it would have just been nice to have been given at the very least an  _ **_option_ ** _ to talk this out. A couple of  _ **_suggestions_ ** _ for what to do. _

_ But Bruce wouldn’t have listened. He wouldn’t have offered the option to talk it out even if Dick had stayed completely calm. He just didn’t think about how other people felt. _

_ Selfish prick. _

_ Dick kicked a rock out of his way and huffed. Froze when he heard nearby footsteps. _

_ Ducked into an alley and took off because if it was Bruce, he was screwed and if it was anyone looking to hurt him he was doubly screwed. _

_ It wasn’t his proudest moment when he cornered himself down by the docks, herded there by the constant sounds of footsteps chasing him no matter where he went. But he tried to stand tall when the others closed in on him. Tried to keep his back straight and swallowed down any fear. _

_ … Deathstroke stepped out from behind the men who had gathered around him. _

_ “Hello, Robin.” He purred, and Dick just about fainted. _

_ If anyone would recognize him out of costume, it was Deathstroke. _

_ He must have visibly gone pale, because Deathstroke laughed. Deathstroke laughed and approached. Grabbed him by the chin and tilted his head up so that he could, Dick guessed, look him in the eyes. _

_ “You’ve got a fire in your eyes, little Robin.” He said, “And I need a new protégé.” _

_ Dick swallowed. Hard. Tried not to flinch or shrink back and said, “I don’t really have a choice, do I?” _

_ “Not at all.” _

… That was ten years ago, and Dick wasn’t sure how or why his mind held onto that memory so tightly. The anger, maybe? The sudden turn of events after he’d run off from the Manor? Whatever it was it held the memory in his mind with an unparalleled strength.

And now, ten years on, he was forced to relive it because he was already experiencing all of the same kind of rage he’d felt then. He was shaking as he watched the news coverage of whatever fight had been going on. Trembling and clenching his jaw to avoid doing or saying anything because his eyes were  _ glued _ to the screen and he wanted to  _ scream. _

… Bruce had replaced him.

_ Again. _

He already knew about the second and third Robins―had trembled in anger about them, too. Had almost broken a coffee table in the apartment Slade gave him when he found out about the second one. Almost kicked the shit out of the person who’d told him about the third one. But now there was a  _ fourth? _

There was a  _ fourth _ and the third one had stuck around as some kind of  _ derivative _ calling himself Red Robin. And, if he wasn’t mistaken and the rumor mill was to be believed, the  _ second one _ was still around. At least he’d picked a better alias―the Red Hood. Stolen from Joker like the Joker had stolen his life from him… If the rumor mill was to be believed, that was.

Still.

There was a new Robin, and like always the knowledge made Dick’s blood boil.

This one didn’t look any older than he’d been when he started.

Dick had been taken off-duty premanently for getting shot  _ once _ and told that he should have never been allowed to be a vigilante in the first place, and Bruce had done  _ what _ in his absence?

He’d trained three more children.

He’d trained three more children and let the one who had supposedly been  _ beaten to death _ continue to patrol after coming back.

Either he’d learned a lesson when Dick disappeared, or it had never been about Dick getting hurt in the first place.

It was almost enough to make him want to go personally confront the guy, but even as a twenty-four year old man he wasn’t sure he was ready to open up that can of worms. It would have been different, maybe, if he’d just run away and finally decided he was ready to face it.

But as it was, he’d accidentally run straight into Slade’s arms and though he’d been released from Slade’s grip  _ years _ ago, going back to Bruce now would be… Well. He’d been trained to lie and he was by all accounts a  _ great _ liar and an even better actor, but he wasn’t sure he had what it would take to lie straight to Bruce’s face about where he’d been and what he’d been doing.

And he wasn’t sure that Bruce would be willing to talk to him at all if he told him the truth.

Not that it would be a surprise, or even an  _ unwelcome _ surprise, but…

Hm.

He grunted, because that was all he could do without it turning into a scream, and dug his fingers into the fabric of the arm of his couch. And beside him, his best friend since he’d started working for Slade heaved out a sigh and tossed a leg over his lap. Grounded him to the present.

Even just the contact was enough to make him hiss out a breath and pull a new one in, brain screeching to a halt before it could take the fast track into a very ugly area.

… X was good at that.

“You with me, Red?” X asked, hooking his heel into the fold of Dick’s leg.

“... Yeah,” Dick managed, squeezing his eyes shut and forcing himself to relax against the back of the couch.

“We need to fight?” He could hear the cocked brow, and was glad for the question if only because it put how he must look to X into perspective.

He laid a hand on X’s leg and squeezed his calf. “No, I’m good, I just…” He took a breath and hissed, “He never fucking learns, does he?”

“Evidently not,” X didn’t move except to toss his other leg over Dick’s lap.

Dick appreciated the contact more than he was really willing to admit to. He blew out a breath and opened his eyes to glance at X. X stared back, hiking one eyebrow in silent question when he just watched him for a moment without saying anything.

“I’m not gonna bitch about how Robin was supposed to be mine,” He said, carefully, and X didn’t so much as bat an eyelash, “Not this time. But… Hm.”

“Still pissed about it.” X summed up, without needing him to say anything else.

“Yeah.”

X smiled a bit, digging his heel into Dick’s thigh a little bit―not enough to hurt. Just enough to apply a little extra pressure. Then, he leaned back against the armrest of the couch and opened his arms, cocking his head and that one eyebrow once again.

Dick didn’t hesitate to move out from under his legs so he could lay on top of him and tuck his face into his neck. Neither moved, nor spoke, for a long moment.

When they finally did break the silence, it was because X’s phone had gone off.

“Ugh,” He said, “Rent’s due tomorrow. And our wallets are both bone dry.”

“Guess we’ll have to make some quick money,” Dick sighed, sitting up despite having been very comfortable. “... You’d better be the one, though. God knows I’d hurt somebody right now.”

“Mm,” X agreed succinctly, sitting up as well and pausing long enough to pull Dick close and kiss his cheek before he left the couch.

“You all good, Red?” X’s voice asked in his ear, soft enough to not be picked up by whoever X was lingering around, but loud and clear to Dick.

“I’m great.” He uttered in return, “Looks like business is slowing down at the bank, X.”

“Mm,” X agreed, “Getting the smoke bombs ready as we speak.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Dick glanced around, eyes flicking back to his phone after a moment. A dot blinked away in the schematics on his screen, stationary for now. The bank was half a block from him, currently, and he could see the front doors perfectly from where he sat on the low wall in front of the courthouse. It was best for him to monitor from a distance, for now, because he was still  _ boiling _ with rage and he would hurt somebody if he went in there.

Better to let X do it.

A moment passed.

A bang rattled the windows of ever shop on the half-block from the bank to the courthouse, and Dick had to try  _ very _ hard to suppress his smile.

He hopped down off the half-wall and let himself melt into the curious crowd starting to head for the area around the bank. Smoke poured through the broken glass doors, and after another moment the patrons who had been inside came flooding out―scared, but unscathed. X was good at that.

Dick was, too, when he wasn’t angry.

Through his earpiece, he heard X cackling to himself, and the distinct sounds of him sorting through the cash before stuffing it into the bag he’d brought. He wasn’t after much―enough for rent. That was all they needed, and once they were settled back into Gotham a little better after moving back from Bludhaven they’d be able to get day jobs and pay the bills the honest way.

Or the dishonest way.

Dick didn’t really have a preference anymore, although he had to admit he missed the days when his finances were  _ Bruce’s _ problem and not his own. Even Slade had had him manage his own budget, but he guessed the upside with that was that he learned to be careful with his money.

He almost bodily jerked backwards when he saw who else but Bruce arriving on the scene, swooping in.

_ “Luke!” _ He hissed, because calling him X while in a crowd of people would draw too much attention, “Move, cavalry’s here.”

“I’ll be fine, Red,” X responded, nonplussed, “Already threw the bag out back. Grab it for me?”

Dick weaved his way through the now retreating crowd and ducked down an alley. Looped to the back of the bank even as he heard the fight break out inside. Nabbed the bag because he already knew that X had sorted any security measures out of it before he’d even put the money in.

Took off as quickly and quietly as he could to where they’d hidden their bikes, hopped on, and started it.

“I’ll meet you at home, babe.” He said.

X didn’t respond verbally, but he  _ was _ in the middle of a fight with Batman  _ and _ all three of his new little protégés.

Dick just had to sit on their couch and listen and pray.

But eventually, he heard X set off another smoke bomb and take off with one delighted laugh. Near-silent footsteps, then the sound of his bike starting up.

“On my way, sugar!” X said, and only then did Dick start to relax.

But it wasn’t until he’d entered their safehouse and yanked his mask off and Dick was  _ sure _ he hadn’t been followed that he fully relaxed, throwing himself into X’s arms. And X laughed, catching him and holding him close, nuzzling into his hair. Dick breathed in the smell of smoke and sweat and he let himself slowly,  _ slowly _ try to calm down at long last. Letting himself be angry for a while was the tried and true way to make him calm down, especially if there were hugs and forehead kisses waiting for him when he decided to try and get calm.

They didn’t leave that spot for a while.


	2. Chapter 2

“I―” Dick hesitated, because he wasn’t sure he wanted to finish the thought that had started to leave his mouth. But, ultimately, he figured he may as well get it out of the way. “I want to go see them.”

X gave him a considering look, in reply, and didn’t say anything at first.

Dick just stared him down in the meantime.

Finally, X said, “Red, you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Probably not,” Dick admitted, “But if I wait it’ll just stew.”

“Fair enough.” X hummed, chewing his cheek for a moment. “I guess as long as I’m there, I can stop you.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Dick sighed, “Which is why I mentioned it to you.”

X crinkled his nose, tossed his helmet onto the couch, and seemed to consider that. Finally, shrugging, he stripped off the rest of his costume. Dick took that as an agreement to go, and moved to grab his jacket. It was a copy of the one that X would put on when he got dressed―simple black letter jacket with their Red X symbol emblazoned over their hearts and across their backs.

Thankfully he hadn’t yet kicked his shoes off―had left them on when he got back to the apartment in case he needed to make a speedy exit. That would make this easier.

X only took a moment to get changed, and once he’d shrugged on his jacket as well he turned to Dick.

“So, Red. We walkin’ up to the front door, or…?”

“We’re gonna go straight on in,” Dick shrugged. Only when X raised a brow did he say, “... I know where the Batcave entrance is.”

X shrugged, once that information was given, and said, “Alright, cool.”

The two of them headed on out, after that, and climbed on their bikes.

The ride wasn’t long and Dick didn’t even have to screw around too much to be able to get in. Would Bruce be able to tell he’d gotten in? If he went looking for evidence, sure. But considering Dick was going to just be chilling out in here when Bruce got back, most likely…

They parked their bikes a ways away, so it was going to be  _ interesting _ trying to run off without being caught if they needed to, but they’d manage.

Stepping in, Dick was hit immediately with the knowledge that the Batcave had barely changed. At least the area where they usually parked. There was still a lot of extra room in that area which, well, he guessed wasn’t  _ extra _ room anymore. Not with three sidekicks running around, one of whom was almost definitely old enough to drive a car.

It didn’t hurt as much to be here as he had expected it to. He guessed that was probably just because he hadn’t had a chance to get a proper look around, yet. He was sure that he was going to go right back into his hissy fit once he got up to the main floor of the Cave and saw, perhaps, all of the evidence of there being three new little fuckers running around here.

… His time with Slade may have been good for him, for the sake of him having gotten X out of the deal and had plenty of ways to vent his frustrations, but  _ good lord  _ it hadn’t had much of a good effect on his temper.

He felt like his skin was buzzing.

But whatever.

He and X made their way up the stairs, to the main level, and as Dick had expected he was immediately smacked in the face with anger. He could see so much evidence of Bruce having taken on three new protégés―extra suits, assorted projects obviously meant to become tools that lacked the sleek sophistication of one of Bruce’s creations, a workbench covered in extra domino masks and boots that looked like they were being modified in some way.

All the same sort of things that had been laying around the last time he’d been here, but so much more of it.

And, he thought a little too acidly, his creations had always looked better than those half-finished botched attempts.

But Bruce would let them tinker and play around with ideas―that was one thing that Dick could say for certain. Bruce encouraged experimentation and attempts to streamline the whole experience of being a vigilante, especially considering that he and Dick hadn’t had any special metahuman abilities.

He couldn’t be sure about Robin and Red Robin, now, but he thought that the Red Hood might be the only one who had anything of the sort. He seemed pretty hard to kill after the first time, which, to be fair…

_ Might _ be why Bruce had let him back onto the field.

If he couldn’t die again, there was nothing to worry about.

It still didn’t paint Bruce in a particularly sympathetic light, though, because after all that mess he’d talked to Dick, he shouldn’t have taken the Hood under his wing as a vigilante to fucking behin with.

He hummed, though, pacing to the creation table and examining what was laid out there. One, in particular, caught his eye, because it sat next to a blueprint.

… One of  _ his _ blueprints.

One of the few creations he’d ever actually made a blueprint for. But he’d  _ also _ never finished his final version of the gadget, because the whole getting  _ shot _ thing happened before he could.

So now one of the little birds was working on their own version?

Funny.

They should still have the last one  _ he’d _ made.

That they didn’t was surprising. Bruce didn’t usually throw that sort of thing out. Not unless he had to.

Was his original that buggy?

Mm… No.

It was probably just that it had been lost in the shuffle of things over the last ten years. Or that Bruce had scrapped it when Dick never came back and now the others had simply decided they wanted to try their hands at recreating the last thing he’d ever tried to make as Robin.

He frowned, nonetheless. He didn’t like knowing that Bruce had trained new Robins to begin with, considering that was supposed to be  _ his _ identity and his alone, but…

Hm.

Then, before he could think on it too much more, as he turned toward X to try and talk, he heard the doors sliding open and the hum of four engines.

Well.

Now or never.

He walked to the railing, waiting for them and watching as they all got out of or off of their vehicles. Bruce had already pulled the cowl off, and both of the little birds had peeled their domino masks off. They looked… Strikingly like Bruce, really. One of them more so than the other―the new Robin. And the Hood, after he peeled his own mask off, looked like if Bruce had tried to bleach his hair, but hadn’t tried very hard.

He was ginger, was Dick’s point.

He leaned against the railing, decided he was feeling bold, and called out a little  _ too  _ smugly for the circumstances, “Heya, B!” And at the immediate landing of four sets of eyes on him, he found himself smirking, “Didja  _ miss me?” _


	3. Chapter 3

Two things happened in the seconds following Dick opening his mouth and making his presence known.

First, the eyes of Bruce’s three little protégés, and of Bruce himself, went very wide―theirs with confusion, Bruce’s with first that, then realization.

Then, Bruce’s face turned somewhere between that horrified realization and anger.

“Dick?” He asked, and his  _ voice _ wasn’t angry yet, but Dick knew it was only a matter of time.

He and Bruce didn’t fight in the past, because Bruce in part didn’t want to fight a child and in part just didn’t see the point in arguing… But Dick wasn’t a child anymore. Here he stood, a full-grown adult, back after ten years away without a word.

This wasn’t going to end well.

He smirked, regardless, angrier than he could express, himself, and smug at the surprise on those four because it proved he still had it. He could still use the element of surprise to his advantage. It as one thing he knew he’d never lost and it always made him just a little smug.

“In the flesh.” Dick chose to say, watching Bruce’s face contort in a much more obvious cue of anger. At his side, X appeared to cock his head and lift his brows, ultimately not looking very impressed, “Lookie, babe, it’s the reason I met you.”

X merely snorted, still not looking at all impressed.

Dick loved that about him―though he may very well, like Dick, have worried about being caught by Bruce and had a rightful fear of the guy and getting into a fight with him on his own turf, he knew Dick needed him to not look at Bruce and see Batman. He needed him to look at him and his three little bastards and see what Dick saw―a piece of shit and the poor helpless kids he chose to replace Dick after he ran him off.

So that was what he was seeing.

Dick tried to do the same for him, when that needed to happen.

Bruce seemed almost to splutter, saying,  _ “Ten years!” _ after a moment of looking for words.

“Ten years,” He agreed, “Long time to let a missing kid stay missing, B.”

“You ran off.” Bruce protested, clearly not liking the implication that he’d simply let Dick disappear.

“I did,” Dick shrugged, “Still, one would think you’d come looking for me when I didn’t come back after a couple days, especially since I didn’t take anything with me. But no―never heard a word of you looking for me.” He paused, choosing to at least give Bruce a little credit by tacking on, “Though that may have been more a matter of him withholding information. Who knows.”

Bruce seemed taken aback a moment, and spluttered again for a moment.

Before he could continue, the newest little Robin spoke.

“You are the first Robin?” He asked, eyes squinted in a very Bruce-like way and tone hardly more curious than it was flat.

Dick found himself sneering as he replied, flat and  _ desperately _ trying not to be angry at the fucking  _ kid _ because it wasn’t his fault Bruce was a  _ bastard, _ “I was supposed to be the  _ only _ Robin.”

He saw Bruce flinch, and saw all three of his replacements sort of vaguely wince as well.

Good.

“Where have you  _ been?”  _ Was what Bruce said, when he seemed to regain his ability to speak after the flinch.

“Bludhaven,” Dick shrugged, seeing no reason to tell him the whole truth, “Jump City, too, for a while. But mostly Bludhaven.”

“Why?” Bruce, thankfully, seemed more confounded than angry at the reply.

Snorting, Dick merely vaulted over the railing and landed in front of him, and X followed without question. He didn’t answer the question and instead got up very close to the little Robins and the Hood. He squinted, giving them a good looking at and pacing around them slowly.

It said something about them, he guessed, that the new Robin went stiff but otherwise didn’t move or act like he noticed, while the Red Robin flinched and watched him with anxious eyes, and the Red Hood merely stood there, eyes tracing after him but body not moving and face impassive.

It said almost as much as their costumes and fighting styles did―almost.

“You fight like you’re holding something back,” He said, off-handedly, to the little Robin, “Like you have a  _ very  _ hard time complying to the no-killing rule. You’re very sparsely armored―good for flexibility and speed, bad for your body in fights. You get hit in the gut a lot. Should really put an armor plate there, under the kevlar.” The last part he threw mostly at Bruce. Squinting, he continued, “You focus more on making hits than staying out of the way of them. Should work on that so the other three don’t have to save your ass so often.”

Robin gave the slightest hints of a frown and a flinch at that, but stiffly said, “I will keep it in mind in the future.”

Pretty formal kid.

Moving on, he looked to the Red Robin, “And you.” He started, making the kid flinch again, “You fight like you’re not comfortable in your body. A lot like how  _ he _ fights like he’s holding something back, except it’s obvious you don’t know what kind of strength you have like he does. You’re jumpy and try too hard to stay out of the way instead of focusing on protecting yourself while you actually fight. You’re almost too armored considering how far out of conflict you stay and I don’t see near enough flexibility in that armor.” Again briefly focusing on Bruce he added, “He’s going to get himself hurt if you don’t make adjustments to that and you know it,” Then focused back in on the kid, “Plenty strong, sure, good at what you do. Definitely more built for the detective side of things, though.”

Humming, he moved onto the Red Hood while the kid just gulped and nodded like Dick had threatened his life. Nervous, uncomfortable. Hard to understand how a kid like that could be a vigilante when the nervousness reflected into his fighting.

The Red Hood though…

“And  _ you. _ Little Robin number two―you put too much on the line for those two. Your suit is fine, armor looks well-managed and well-placed, but armor only does so much when you’re throwing yourself into the path of attacks to save a couple of shithead kids.” He heard one of them make a choked off, half-offended noise and nearly started laughing, watching the Red Hood merely frown at him, “Fight like a bat out of hell, of course, which I can appreciate―but I guess you’re the closest one here to being one, huh? If the rumors are true, that is.”

Red Hood went stiff at that part, and Dick stopped in front of him, squinting.

_ “Are _ they true, by the way?” He asked, leaning in a little closer, “You died and came back?”

“Yes.” Red Hood said, voice almost as stiff as his back.

Dick laughed, feeling that familiar gut-churning rage spark up, and turned on Bruce immediately.

“You are such a ridiculous fucking  _ hypocrite,” _ He snorted, and saw X shift just slightly from the corner of his eye―he knew he was just preparing to have to grab Dick and get him out of here if the rage took off into a full-blown altercation. “And you just  _ never fucking learn, _ do you? How is a man who’s so intelligent so  _ stupid?” _

Bruce went very still and very quiet, at that―didn’t even try to splutter a response. Just watched him as if he hadn’t been expecting that and didn’t entirely see it as inaccurate. Dick figured he could give him some credit there, too―he did seem to be less emotionally constipated and willing to hear him out.

Maybe that was just because Dick was  _ twenty-five _ and could  _ kick his ass. _

He’d been able to take Bruce in training exercises by the time he was twelve, could go head-to-head without breaking a sweat when he was fourteen. His time with Slade, his time away, could have only made him stronger, right? And it would make sense if that meant that Bruce would hear him out now.

When Bruce didn’t say anything for another moment, Dick scoffed.

While it was nice Bruce was hearing him now, it was also  _ annoying. _

“You take me off-duty indefinitely for getting shot,” He said, slowly, trying not to let the anger take root too deeply, “For getting shot  _ once, _ by the way, in the  _ shoulder, _ which as you can see healed up just fine without any outside influence… And you let the kid who got  _ beat to death _ back on the field like nothing happened. And after all that talk about how you never should have let me start in the first place.”

At that, Bruce did seem to try and come up with a reply, but didn’t manage much.

Dick let him try for a couple of minutes, watching the little replacements get more and more bothered the longer he went on without coming up with anything reasonable to say in response. And finally, realizing Bruce couldn’t come up with anything, Dick snorted again.

“C’mon, sugar.” He said, glancing at X, “Let’s go home. Fucker can’t even defend himself.”

X shrugged, unperturbed, and they slipped past the replacements and Bruce and walked on out of the Bat Cave without an issue. It was entirely too easy and Dick’s skin crawled at it. He felt like he was about to vibrate right out of his flesh. He wanted a  _ fight. _ He wanted to crush Bruce into the dirt and make him regret ever taking him off duty.

He wanted―

Ugh.

They made it to their bikes and headed home and he was  _ seething _ he whole way.

He’d managed not to get angry at the kids. Managed to stay calm and not hurt them. But he wasn’t sure, with the way he was riled up now, that it had actually been a good thing to cap himself off and try not to fight.

When they got back to their little studio-loft apartment, he all but threw his jacket off and kicked off his shoes, and before he could get much further X softly grabbed him by the shoulders and guided him to the couch. He let it happen, tried to let the anger drain out of him before he did something he’d regret―like kicking X in the teeth or something.

With a gentle shove he was sitting on the couch and X was kneeling in front of him. Laying his head on his thigh and laying a hand on the opposite one, nuzzling and softly rubbing and Dick’s brain caught up after only a moment, as did… Other parts of his body. Leave it to X to come up with the tried and true way to get him to calm the fuck down―and then there were fingers deftly undoing his belt and pants and he just leaned into the couch cushions and closed his eyes.

Feeling considerably calmer afterwards, of course, he hauled X up to kiss him and then return the favor, which just made X smile and pull him against his chest when that was over with.

They curled up together on the couch, with Dick’s head tucked against X’s neck and chest, and they were silent at first. Dick didn’t want to open up this can of worms too quickly and he imagined X would wait until he spoke first.

But finally,  _ finally, _ he puffed out a sigh and was able to start talking without the anger sparking up too hard again.

“I want to kick his teeth in,” He said, as calmly as possible, “Who does he think he is?”

“Entitled billionaire with enough trauma to cripple most men his age and the subsequent emotional range of a teaspoon.” X replied with a shrug.

It wrung a half-startled laugh out of Dick.

That was a start, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so y'know how this story is tagged for sexual content?
> 
> yeah it's not explicit in this chapter but obviously you can see there's some tomfoolery going on, and as the fic goes on there will likely be more and it'll probably get more explicit  
> so just  
> be on the lookout for that


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